


Suicide Isn't Festive

by vvsbuck



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Patrick stump - mentioned - Freeform, fall out boy - Freeform, how do I even tag ffs, my chemical romance - Freeform, new years or Christmas time, petekey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22045153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvsbuck/pseuds/vvsbuck
Summary: Pete questions ending it all until a certain someone meets him on the roof.
Relationships: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Suicide Isn't Festive

**Author's Note:**

> This was co-written by a friend of mine, Libby. She doesn't have an AO3 account (that I know of) so I'll just be mentioning her here. I haven't written in quite some time, and this was supposed to be a Christmas fic, which it barely is. I post more fics on Wattpad (@/kobrqkid) so feel free to check me out there. :) 
> 
> \- Maddie
> 
> PS: I wrote this while listening to Minecraft parody songs, so sorry if the tone isn't quite sad enough. I hope you enjoy my last/first post of the decade.

It was nearly inevitable, the whole ordeal. Pete sat on the edge of the roof of his building, looking down at the passing people who were currently a couple of hundred feet below him. A string of envy emitted through his chest, and he questioned for a moment whether or not he should go through with his plan. None of the people down there would commit to such a cowardly end. They surely wouldn’t throw themselves off of shitty apartment complexes to prove to their friends and family that yes, something was fucking wrong. No. They’d ignore the feelings and thoughts and go on with their days, just like Pete should be doing. He should’ve been spending the holiday with his parents, his siblings, his friends- hell, anyone, really.

On second thought, would any of his friends actually want to be with him? The annoying bastard who never shut up about his childish crush on his friend- especially to said friends himself. He would always make side comments about his body, his face, his hair, his whatever, and after two years it was sure to begin to fall into the category of annoying and at this point, probably a bit creepy. He doubted any of his friends would give a fuck. Patrick had to be fed up by Pete’s constant meaningless calls coming in at three in the goddamn morning. By his mood swings caused by his oh so amazing bipolar disorder. By his constant falling in love with every damn guy or girl he saw. He had to be fed up by it.

The snow fell down onto the rooftop and a shiver ran up his spine. Chicago’s ever-changing weather fucking sucked. It was either too hot or too cold. He should’ve brought his jacket. he’d rather die warm than his body freeze over as it rots on the street lined with wreaths and shitty Christmas decorations.

His feet were hung over the edge, his grip on the railing being the only thing keeping him from falling forward and to his death. This wasn't his first time up here, no. He had been up on the ledge many times before but never had he gotten this close to letting go. Wentz had been sitting there for at least an hour. He had thrown his phone down a little while ago. He wasn't going to let anyone talk him out of this. Not tonight. He had specifically planned for this night. December 24th. Christmas eve. 

Christmas had never been Pete's favorite holiday; in fact, he could barely stand the mention of it. It’s not like anything traumatizing was linked to it, he just couldn’t stand the capitalist themed holiday. With the large companies that built the economy constantly shoving shitty deals that made absolutely no sense in his face, the fun was drained out of him by the time he was eleven. A combination of bright lights and greed was all that fueled Christmas in Pete’s opinion. 

He kicked his legs back and forth, the back of his shoes knocking against the glass of the building. Being up so high forced an ethereal feeling into Pete, and he couldn’t quite describe why. A mixture of the fact that holy shit, if he wanted, he could end his life with a quick release of his muscles, and the happy-sad feeling that ran through his veins every time he found himself up high. Actually, thinking about it more, that might’ve been caused by the swirl of excitement and anxiety pooling in his guts. 

He loosened his grip on the railing, feeling his body lean forward ever so slightly. A few thoughts swept through his mind as he teetered over the edge, one of which being his friend Mikey. He thought about what he would think. maybe he would miss him. Maybe he would come to his funeral and be the only one to actually mourn. Or maybe, he would fake the whole thing. He would cry, and people would pity him, because ‘oh, how heartbreaking it must have been.’ No. Mikey wouldn’t go that low. He would probably think about how fucking cowardly Pete was. He wondered if he actually would even think about him. All Pete did was annoy the younger boy. With the extremely obvious flirting and his shitty jokes, he would be tired of himself too. Maybe this was what Mikey was waiting for. For him to just fucking finally let go. 

All you have to do is let go, he told himself, focusing on a specific car below him. A red truck. In a matter of seconds, he could be down there with them, a lifeless crippled body on the street, barely recognizable due to the impact of the fall. He wondered for a brief moment what people do when they see a body on the street. Surely they’d be shocked, but of course, they wouldn’t care. He wondered about the poor soul who would have to clean up his mess. Maybe it would end up getting run over. Wouldn’t that be something?  
I could find out. Not really. My body could. Fuck, I’m tired. Why am I here again? I’m always here. Might as well fucking do it. Nothing’s waiting for me. It’s all just gray, shitty gray. He let his fingers slip one at a time until he was barely hanging onto the edge, fucking do it- The creaking of a door sliced through his thoughts. He jumped and instinctively grabbed back onto the railing, almost falling onto the roof of the building. Maybe he could jump before they saw him. 

Mikey stood there with a cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth, the light from inside illuminating the back of him. He froze when he noticed Pete sitting on the railing. “Pete?” Mikey’s voice croaked out. “What are you doing?” He stared at Mikey, painfully aware of how shitty he must look right now. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, just something to reassure Mikey that nothing was wrong. He was fine, everything was fucking peachy. 

Mikey took a hesitant step forward, closing the door slightly so that only a sliver of light was draped across the building’s roof. “Get off the railing, Pete,” Mikey said quietly.  
Pete turned to move a leg over to the other side of the railing to fully face him, suddenly realizing that his neck was sore from looking down for a long time “Hey, Mikey.” He finally forced himself to say. “What were you doing?” Mikey asked again, and Pete had to squint slightly as it was hard to make out his expression in the dark.

“Nothing- I was just looking at the Christmas lights.” Pete managed to spit out. He really didn’t feel capable of keeping up a conversation with someone right now. He was cold and tired and gray and he could feel the dread building up his chest “Do people even put up Christmas lights in the city?” Mikey seemed to think out loud. Pete didn’t want to risk looking down again so he shrugged in response, starting to feel himself shiver from the cold. Mikey walked forward and put his hand out holding the cigarette, “Want it?” He offered. Pete took it with a shaky hand, hoping that Mikey didn’t notice, and caught the lighter that Mikey threw at him. He placed it between his lips and lit it without a second thought. 

Maybe he could just tell Mikey to fuck off, and as soon as he turned his back push himself backward and off the building, but he decided against it. The sound of a sigh escaping the other’s lips caused Pete to quickly move his gaze back to him. “You’re lying,” Mikey declared. “Tell me why you’re up here, Pete.”  
“What about you? Why are you up here? You could’ve smoked inside where its warm.” He was so obviously avoiding the question. Mikey shrugged, fishing a new fag out of his packet at the mention of them. “I don’t want my apartment smelling like smoke.” He mumbled. “Tell me though, why are you up here?” 

Pete glanced down. “No reason. Just wanted some fresh air.” He mumbled, which earned a sigh from Mikey. He looked back up, and he watched as Mikey’s gaze moved from Pete to the railing to the city behind him. A look of realization crossed his face, and he stepped closer to the elder. “You weren’t- You weren’t going to jump, were you?” He asked. Pete stayed silent as he took a drag of the cigarette, blowing the smoke off to the side. “Fuck- Pete, are you- you aren’t serious are you?” Mikey questioned, and Pete couldn’t help but notice how his voice wavered. “I never said if I was actually going to do it.” He said. Mikey shook his head. “That’s not the issue, it’s the fucking thought. Were you actually thinking about jumping?” 

“Not jump- more like push myself off the railing,” He joked, but Mikey didn’t laugh. Pete looked up, only now seeing the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Why was he crying? Didn’t he want Pete gone? “Why?” Was all that Mikey mumbled. Some fucked up part of his brain was telling him that he didn’t actually fucking care, and instead was trying to talk him out of it in a sense of pitying him. “Why?” Pete echoed. 

Mikey looked up, a clear look of confusion spread across his features. “Why would you even..?” He trailed off, shaking his head. Pete stayed silent and shrugged, looking away from him. “It just made sense.” He finally answered, shivering lightly from the cold that tugged at his skin. Mikey’s eyes widened. 

“Pete, what’re you talking about?” Pete leaned back against the railing, praying that Mikey would fucking leave so he could get it over with. It did make sense. The whole thing was just another page in Pete’s life, and he hoped it would end up being the last, but with Mikey here, it was just getting longer. It made sense that he was at this point. Everyone was annoyed by just his presence, wouldn’t the absence of it fix everything? The one thing that didn’t quite make sense to Pete was why Mikey was fucking crying. Every time Pete would show up at his apartment, the younger would immediately become quiet and dismissive. 

Mikey shook his head, letting his dying cigarette fall into the cold snow that was gathering at their feet. “You know what I’m fucking talking about.” He said the words coming out as harsh and cold. The other moved to stand beside Pete, the cold metal of the railing quickly burning through his thin jacket. “I really don’t.” He responded, his tone calm. Pete sighed. “It’d just be better. I piss everyone off by just fucking being there, wouldn’t you rather I fix the issue then let it get worse?” He smiled, though there was really nothing to be happy about right now. “Fix the issue?” Mikey repeated, his arm brushing against Pete’s gently. “There’s no fucking issue to be fixed.” He said, “You don’t piss me off, you know. I don’t know why you’d think that.” Pete’s eyebrows knit together. Alright. He was obviously lying now. It was either that or the pity talking from the subconscious of Mikey’s mind. 

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Mikes.” He said softly, pushing himself off the railing. He’d have to find another way to do this. Another way where he wouldn’t be interrupted. “Lie? Pete, I’m not lying. I like being around you.” Pete ignored him, feeling tears well up in his eyes. God fucking damn it. He didn’t want to let himself cry. Especially right now. “Sure. Sure you do. Every fucking time I’m around, you try to brush me off and get me to leave. This is just what you’ve been fucking waiting for hasn’t it?” He snapped, the hot tears finally spilling down his cheeks. Mikey was shocked. How could he think that? “No! God, Pete, of course not. Of course not. Why would I be fucking waiting for this? This is like- my worst fucking nightmare.”  
“Then why the hell do you act like you hate me?” Pete asked, his voice cracking. He wiped some tears off his cheek with the back of his hand. he wasn’t going to be this damn vulnerable. He supposed it didn’t matter too much though, Mikey was also quite clearly trying not to cry. 

“It’s not like I’m fucking trying to, I just- fucking- I’m bad at talking to people, man. I think you’re cool and funny and- shit, Pete, your actually kinda fucking hot “ Mikey ran a hand through his hair, “I like you, okay?” Pete’s eyes widened and he shook his head slightly. This was a fucking joke, right? No one would wait until now to tell someone that they loved them. The two of them fell silent, yet neither of them had the energy to make the situation awkward. The cold air brushed at their skin and Pete felt a shiver run up his spine. “Please say something..” Mikey whispered, and Pete sighed, falling back to lean against the railing again. “Not just in a ‘Hey, I’m gonna tell you that I love you so you don’t go behind my back and kill yourself’ type of way?” He asked, a joking tone wafting into his words.

“No. Not in a ‘Hey, I’m gonna tell you that I love you so you don’t go behind my back and kill yourself’ type of way. I do really like you, Pete.” The back of his hand brushed against Pete’s. “You know. I wasn’t going to let anyone talk me out of it this time.” He said softly. “I threw my fucking phone down there.” He let out a small chuckle, as his hand wrapped around Mikey’s. He didn’t question Pete’s mention of the fact that he had been up here before or the fact that they were definitely closer than they were ten minutes ago. “This really wasn’t me ‘talking you out of it.’” Mikey said.

Pete shrugged, glancing towards the door. Mikey followed his gaze and squeezed his hand lightly. “Let’s go inside. I’d rather you didn’t spend Christmas alone.” He said, pulling the shorter of the pair towards the door. “I hate Christmas.”  
Mikey shrugged. “You could try to like it. Suicide isn’t festive, you know.” Pete opened the door, and they stepped inside, the warm air seeping through Pete’s skin and wrapping around his cold bones.  
“That’s the point.”


End file.
